


Untitled Impala porn

by scheherezhad



Category: DCU - Comicverse, Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Vehicular Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-27
Updated: 2011-07-27
Packaged: 2017-11-11 05:55:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/475246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scheherezhad/pseuds/scheherezhad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The dumbasses got themselves kicked out of town. Again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled Impala porn

The dumbasses got themselves kicked out of town. Again. Jason wonders sometimes how they get anything done when their half-assed paper trails are so easy to crack and their cover stories always fall short of being really believable. Bruce never would've put up with that, and Jason wants to grill them _seven_ ways to Sunday until they learn to tell better lies to civilians.

He can't do that until he finds them, though, so he's taking the scenic route out of town because Dean's probably too tired to get them to the next place with a cheap motel after that hunt. Won't be the first time he's found them sleeping in the car.

About five miles out, he spots fresh tire tracks running off into the overgrown entrance to an old utility road. The Impala is pulled off a few hundred feet down the path, taking advantage of a clearing that looks like it's hosted more than a few drunken high school bonfires. Jason circles the car and stops on Dean's side. Sam is slumped against the window on the passenger side, drooling a little, and Dean is leaned back in the driver's seat, dark circles obvious under his eyes even in the wan moonlight.

Dean's eyes open almost immediately when Jason lets his shadow fall just through the window, and he eases out of the car, murmuring for Sam to go back to sleep. "What're you doing here?" he asks, voice terse and sleep rough.

"Wondering how you two haven't been arrested every other hunt." Jason swings himself off of his bike and strips off his jacket, tossing it over the seat. "It's very inconvenient for me when you bail on your room and I have to track you down fucking pig trails."

"Yeah, well, it ain't exactly puppies and sunshine for us, either," Dean says, chin coming up defensively.

Jason crowds him back against the Impala's wheel well. "I'm sure I'm sorry," he says dryly. "You need to learn to set up your cover better."

"Says you. We get the job done."

A little thrill sparks up Jason's spine. He likes it when Dean gets sassy. Makes him want to find new ways to shut Dean up. "Barely. These people were just about ready to truss you up and ship you off to Arkham, there for a while. You're lucky they let you out of the city limits with nothing but a warning not to come back."

Dean shrugs, but his eyes are locked on Jason's mouth. Bingo.

"I'm going to fuck you now," Jason says like the given it is.

"What, here?"

"Yes. Got a problem with that?"

"Yeah, I got a problem. Sam's asleep in the passenger seat, for one," Dean hisses.

Jason smirks. "Drop your pants."

"Not here."

" _Here_." Jason crushes his mouth against Dean's, holding his head in place with one hand while the fingers of the other go straight to Dean's belt buckle. He yanks it open, and then the buttons on Dean's pants. Dean tries to bite him when he shoves the denim down past Dean's hips. "Uh-uh, none of that. We'll wake up little Sammy if we start fighting, and he's a growing boy, needs his sleep."

Dean growls and goes for Jason's fly. "I hate you, you know that?"

"Now that's just not healthy," Jason says, and he grunts when Dean palms his dick.

"Yeah, you're a real model of healthy relationships."

"Damn right." And he shoves Dean's briefs down, squeezes that fantastic ass.

Dean looks back at Sam's pale profile, still mushed up against the window. His gaze snaps back to Jason when Jason presses a gloved fingertip into him. Jason watches Dean's adam's apple bob with a hard swallow as he struggles to keep in a moan.

"Jesus, Jay."

"Resurrected but not exactly holy," Jason reminds him. "Now turn around and bend over."

Dean does it, though not without a pout that he _thinks_ is just belligerent. He freezes when he sees Sam again. "Let me up."

Jason steps up so Dean has no room to step back, and he plants his hands next to Dean's on the Impala's hood. "No."

He knows what that tone does to Dean, and he isn't disappointed when it wrings a shudder out of him. He's expecting more fight, though, which doesn't let him down when Dean drops down against the car and pushes his hips out. Jason's going to have to do something about that bossy shit later, but right now, he wants to fuck Dean through his baby's gleaming black steel.

There's slick in his pocket, and he pours it over his fingers, still without bothering to take his gloves off. Dean goes tense for a second when Jason pushes the first finger in again, then he bites his fist to muffle a moan.

"Kinky _fucker_ ," he growls.

"You love it," Jason growls back, pushing in deep and searching...there. Dean goes all tense again, trying not to rock the car as he shoves back into the touch. Yeah, he loves it.

"Another."

They'll have to talk about who's giving who orders, too, but Jason likes this one enough he doesn't mind. Much. He pulls out and shoves back in with two fingers. That gets him a good, low moan, so he sets up a hard rhythm and uses his other hand to pin Dean against the Impala to keep him still. He can feel Dean's thighs tremble with the effort of it. When he's sure Dean will stay put, he takes back the hand pinning Dean down.

Jason pulls the slick out again and shoves his pants down enough to get his dick out. The stuff's still warm from being in his pocket, and it feels sweet as hell when he pours it over himself. He spreads it over his shaft with a few quick strokes, keeping pace with his fingers in Dean. When he pulls them out, Dean bucks and muffles a harsh groan in his sleeve. The noise draws out into a low whine as Jason pushes his dick in instead.

"That's it," he says, leaning down over Dean's back to speak into his ear. "You were fucking _made_ for this." And he picks up his rhythm right where he'd left off.

" _Fuck_ , Jay." Dean's rocking up on his toes with the force of Jason's thrusts and still trying so hard not to jostle the car enough to wake Sam.

Jason smirks and slows down almost to a standstill. "Pretty sure that's what I'm doing."

"Keep going," Dean says, almost sobbing when Jason gives him a smooth roll of his hips.

It's good, the clench and shiver in Dean's muscles, so Jason does it again. He's going to have to do this in a bed next time, see how long he can draw it out, and leave Dean wrecked with it. He picks up the pace again, and Dean buries his face in his arm. Jason wants to pull his head back and bite the arch of his neck, but when he glances up, he sees Sam's pale-lit face gaping at him in horror.

_What the hell?_ Sam mouths at him.

Jason just smirks and throws his head back, fucks into Dean as hard and fast as he's been wanting, now that waking Sam up is a moot point. Sam gives him the bitchface and covers his eyes as he fumbles his earbuds in.

Under Jason, Dean tenses and jerks suddenly. He actually whimpers when Jason slams in one last time and comes with a low growl. They stay there for a minute before Jason pulls out to clean himself off with a wipe from his bike; he tosses another at Dean as he gets himself back together. Sam is resolutely pretending to be asleep, probably planning which fake identity to use to get some therapy.

By the time Dean quits swearing over getting come on his freshly waxed baby, Jason's back on his bike, helmet in hand. She purrs to life, sweet as can be, and Dean shoots a dirty look at him that loses any effectiveness when he's softened up in a post-orgasm haze.

"Almost forgot," Jason tells him, "I heard about a job you might be interested in, fifty miles or so out."

Dean still looks pissed, but he can't hide the curiosity.

"Here." Jason tosses him an envelope of newspaper clippings and photographs. Seven disappearances in seven months, and police couldn't find any connection between the victims except that they each had a great-grandparent who'd been among the few survivors of a factory accident in the '30s. Right up the Winchesters' alley.

Dean looks through the papers but very deliberately doesn't say anything, so Jay revs his engine once and turns back toward the road.

**Author's Note:**

> Because I can't resist a crossover, my best beloved sweetnlow and I have been shipping Jay/Dean since 2007 or so, and we have a pretty extensive head-canon of their relationship. This was just a tiny slice, and I hope to come back to it someday.


End file.
